//------------------------------// // Chapter 6 // Story: Withdrawal // by Raugos //------------------------------// Although Luna had received Twilight’s acceptance with much enthusiasm, they could not begin any lessons without extensive planning first. Her response letter had detailed a whole list of things that needed to be taken care of, and the most important ones pertained to her health and how much time she was willing to commit to the learning process. At the very least, Luna expected her to stay in Canterlot for several days at a time for their sessions, and she still would have to practice on her own even when in Ponyville. Other ponies would have to cover for her while she was away. Twilight had balked and stalled for a couple of days at the prospect of dedicating so much time to it, but eventually sent back a letter with her agreement when she reached the conclusion that it probably wouldn’t be any worse than what she’d already gone through. Still, she did have to sort things out with the palace staff and rearrange her scheduled duties to accommodate the necessary changes. Luna had advised her to ensure that the new system worked before beginning their sessions, and so that left her about a week or so before she would have to report to Canterlot. In the meantime, she’d have to find something else to occupy her time with. She’d gotten very used to running – and to a lesser extent, flying – already, so her exercise routine didn’t quite take the edge off her hunger for magic the way it used to… * * * * * “Hey, Twilight. You awake yet?” She groaned into the pillow and pulled the covers more tightly over herself. The room hadn’t stopped spinning since the first rays of sun had entered through the window. Things were not shaping up to be a good day. “Umm, Twi?” She felt him patting her gently on the back. “What time is it?” “It’s almost noon, actually.” “Ugh, I’m terrible,” she moaned. “Huh?” Twilight threw the covers off and winced when the light assaulted her eyes. “I’ve not been this tardy for a while. I can’t—no, that’s not an excuse.” She sat up abruptly and nearly toppled over the edge when a wave of dizziness smothered her. “Hey, what’s gotten into you? Take it easy,” Spike soothed. “There’ll be ups and downs, remember? We already talked about this. Princess Celestia said it’s okay if you’re not all raring to go at sunrise every single day. Don’t let it get you down in the dumps.” She silently ground her teeth. I hear something along those lines. Every. Single. Day. Do you seriously think I can forget something like that? “Don’t lecture me!” she snapped, and regretted her words almost instantly when Spike backed away a couple of steps, eyes wide. No, he did not deserve to be stung like that. Kneading her forehead, she sighed said, “I’m sorry. That was messed up. I’m messed up.” He made a rather quick recovery, though, and accepted her apology with a grin. “Aww, don’t worry about that, Twi. I’ve got thick skin that’s getting thicker every day. You just concentrate on getting better.” Twilight snorted. “Yeah. I’ll just be right here, getting better. Easy-peasy.” “No, you’ll be getting better out there,” Spike corrected her as he gestured towards the door in emphasis. Then, a smirk formed on his face. “Besides, I have a totally awesome secret that’ll be sure to cheer you up in no time.” About three seconds’ worth of silence passed between them as Twilight waited somewhat doubtfully for the big scoop, before she eventually said, “So… tell me, then?” He waggled a claw at her. “Nuh uh. Not until you get downstairs and eat a healthy breakfast.” He glanced at the clock. “Err, brunch. You get the idea.” She quirked an eyebrow. “Really? You’re actually trying to make me feel better by keeping the thing you say will make me better away from me?” Spike shrugged. “Food will be good for you, too. Might as well make it a two-for-one while I’m at it.” “Who taught you how to drive a hard bargain?” His grin widened. “Well, if you really want to know, I guess that’s another deal we could work out…” Twilight rolled her eyes. “No thanks. I’m getting up.” “Woohoo! I’ll go get the table ready!” After Spike had dashed out of earshot, she sighed and slowly crawled out of bed. Wakefulness had done nothing for her dizziness – if anything, standing up only made it worse. So, it’s going to be one of those days… At times, she wondered how Luna had managed to pull herself out of a funk like this. Unlike her elder, she did not have the benefit several undisclosed centuries’ worth of experience to ignore or endure the emptiness in her being, just waiting for the perfect moment to make her feel worthless. Close proximity to sources of magic didn’t always trigger her symptoms, but on the occasions that they did… She shuddered at the memory of taking in the ‘scent’ of ambient magic. Thankfully, her friends had been on hoof during said episodes, and they were usually quick to steer her away from trouble, sometimes with a little force if she got recalcitrant. Still, they couldn’t always prevent her from making a scene in public. A dry chuckle escaped her when she remembered some of the rumours going around. Apparently, some had mistaken her involuntary displays of hunger for magic as lust, of all things. Poor Noteworthy. He didn’t deserve all that gossip for being right next to Twilight when she had an incident in the market, but she couldn’t bring herself to correct everypony that the real reason she’d been sniffing the air with an expression that bordered on Pinkie-Pie-thinking-of-chocolate-rain was due to somepony casting an unusually complex spell nearby – it had probably been that peddler of magical trinkets a couple of carts away. Of course, it hadn’t helped that Noteworthy had been positioned more or less exactly on the line between her and that source of magic, leading ponies to think that she’d been staring and breathing heavily, lustfully, at the sight of him. Even though she’d probably outlast her condition, with the way things were going, she couldn’t say the same for her reputation… Daily quota of self-pity: check. Get a move on, Twilight. Thankfully, the room had stopped spinning like the world’s slowest carousel once she’d caught up on her personal hygiene for the day. She slowly made her way downstairs to the dining hall, shivering from the morning chill that still lingered in the air. Spike had already finished setting up their little brunch table in the corner closest to the crackling fireplace. “So, what’ll it be? We got pancakes, baked grass, fresh strawberries, banana muffins, daisy sandwiches and orange juice,” he said as she took her seat, pointing to each dish with the spatula in his grip. “That’s an awful lot of food for the two of us,” she commented. “They’ll keep until dinner if you still feel like having them.” He waved the spatula nonchalantly and flipped a couple of pancakes onto his plate. “Want some?” She nodded, even though her stomach didn’t feel up to the task. “Please.” Eating felt more like an assault on her digestive system than anything, but she somehow managed to keep her food down. Once she had a pancake and several strawberries in her belly, she finally asked, “So, what’s this big secret you’ve been holding hostage?” “Finish your food, first.” Twilight folded her forelegs. “I’m full.” Spike looked up from his plate of decimated pancakes and gave her a penetrating look. “Well,” he said, after taking stock of what she’d consumed, “you should at least finish your orange juice. A growing alicorn needs her nourishment.” Twilight had been about to call him out for such a ridiculous statement when she realised that he’d been imitating her, and from the looks of it, he was enjoying their reversed roles immensely. She grinned in spite of herself and obediently took her orange juice. “Okay, you win, mom.” “And don’t you forget it!” he said, waving the spatula at her the same way their mother would. That got another giggle out of her. * * * * * She patiently waited through the task of cleaning up once they were done with their meal, but Spike still saw fit to withhold his little secret from her. Instead, he’d simply instructed her to follow him as he led her out the palace, towards the centre of Ponyville. Her gait had steadied out over the last fifty paces, and her stomach had more or less sorted itself out. Aside from fluctuating between mild lethargy and an intermittent need for something more stimulating than plain trotting, she felt pretty close to normal. All of which freed enough of her concentration to feel a little curious about Spike’s efforts to string her along with his secret. “So, what exactly has you so excited today?” she asked. “You’ve never held onto a secret for so long after revealing the fact that you have one.” “Heh. I’d tell you, but I think it’s something you have to see for yourself,” he replied without looking back. “Trust me; it’ll make your day!” Twilight rolled her eyes but continued to trot obediently. She’d find out soon enough. For the time being, she focused on enjoying the simple walk in the warmth of the sun. She did get a few pings of magic as they went through town, but they fortunately were minor ones and elicited little more than some wishful thinking on her part. The stallions proved to be another matter, though. A couple of them turned red pretended to go about their business when she caught them looking at her, and any mares in the vicinity soon began whispering to one another. Rumours still making their rounds, I see. “And here we are!” Spike finally announced. Twilight blinked. She’d been concentrating so hard on ignoring everypony in their vicinity that she’d not noticed their destination. The hulking ruin of Golden Oaks Library stood before them, its bark blackened by the fire that had ravaged through its interior. The outward-pointing shards and splinters along the rim of the shattered trunk had been dulled by weather, but they still made the once-great tree resemble the remains of an exploded firecracker. “Why are we here?” she eventually asked. Instead of answering, Spike confidently strode towards the door and, before she could warn him that the charred thing might come off its hinges, pushed it open with little effort. It did produce a rather ominous creak, but it held together well enough instead of falling apart like she’d expected. She followed him in wordlessly. The place had a lingering scent of ash about it, and their entry had stirred up little clouds of particles that danced and swirled in the shafts of light poking through splits and cracks in the tree’s outer wall. Bookshelves still lined the interior, now devoid of literature save for the scraps of blackened paper and bindings that hadn’t been completely devoured by the flames. The floor felt grainy and dry beneath her hooves as she wandered aimlessly with her eyes turned skyward. She felt like an animal trapped in a dormant volcano as the memory of her last moments in the library swept her away. “Hey—careful!” Spike cried out. Twilight felt him straining against her as the world tilted, but she managed to snap out of it just in time before toppling onto him. “Sorry. Got a little light-headed,” she mumbled as she re-oriented herself and tried to push the offending memory out of her mind. “So, what’re we looking for?” He smiled and pointed up. “Thunderlane spotted it just this morning. He thought we might be interested.” She followed his direction and squinted against the sunlight, then felt her rising query stick in her throat when she saw green. Her wings seemed to snap open of their own accord, and she crouched low and said to Spike, “Hop on.” He did so, and after a slightly wobbly take-off, she beat her wings and rose up to a section of outer wall with a U-shaped gap in it that originally housed a window on the second level – their old living quarters. And up there, close to the top of the wall, was a little reddish-green stalk with several buds at its tip and two tiny leaves near its base. It’s alive! She hovered closer and delicately scraped at the area around the base of the stalk, then gasped when the charred crust fell away to reveal a streak of healthy wood that stretched further down until a ruined bookshelf obscured the rest of it. “I can’t believe it; the tree’s still alive!” She felt positively giddy at the possibility of restoring Golden Oaks Library to its former glory. It would certainly take time, but what was that to an alicorn and dragon? “Oh, Spike, this is amazing. I can’t believe we missed this!” “Well, everypony was pretty busy with clean-up and all the other stuff going on at the time,” he mused, “but, yeah, it’s awesome! You could get your old room back!” “It’ll be your room, too,” she corrected. “Huh. Not sure if I’ll still fit by the time it grows back.” “Oh.” She hadn’t thought of that. Spike must’ve noticed the dip in her enthusiasm. He patted her reassuringly and said, “Don’t worry about it, Twi. Who knows? The tree might grow faster than normal. And even if I get too big for the old tree, we’ve still got the crystally one over there.” “I suppose…” “Besides, I don’t want anything to get you down today. I did say that this’ll make you feel better, right?” She matched his smirk with a smile of her own. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for showing me.” A minute or two passed in silence as they hovered in place, admiring the beauty of a simple green shoot. Then, an idea occurred to her. “Come on; let’s measure the extent of living tissue. We’ll get some idea of what it might look like once the dead wood rots away.” She summoned a quill and notebook as she spoke, which she then passed to Spike. The growth proved limited to just that shoot and the narrow streak of living wood that it sprouted from, but they did find that it extended all the way down to the basement. The rudimentary lab had mostly survived the tree’s destruction by virtue of being underground, save for the more delicate apparatuses. Anything salvageable had been removed long since. “Careful,” she said when some glass cracked underhoof. One side of the wall had split open – probably from the pressure exerted by the blast – and allowed a mound of dirt to slide in. Thankfully, the living portion of the tree was safely on the other side of the basement, if a little small compared to the vast expanse of dead wood everywhere else. Still, she counted it as better than nothing. She couldn’t wait to see what new shape the mighty oak would take when it regrew. They spent the better part of an hour taking measurements and sampling bits of wood and soil, and by the time they ascended back into the sunlight, they were both fit to give Rarity a panic attack for all the dirt and grime they were covered in. Not that Twilight cared. Spike whistled a tune as they trotted back home, and for once she actually joined in. She couldn’t remember the last time she just felt so… content. It will do. In the span of a few days, Twilight came up with a schedule and made time for excursions to the tree at least once every week. She read up on several volumes’ worth of material on the subject of botany and plant care, and even went so far as to acquire things like fertilisers and gardening tools in preparation to take care of the tree. Although it had proven resilient simply by surviving Tirek’s destructive magic, a host of other problems could finish what he’d started. She and Spike had to keep an eye out for certain types of fungi and wood borers, for instance. They needed to be vigilant. Spike was right. The tree did provide her with something new to look forward to in life. She would often find herself looking forward to her next routine, even in the midst of her studies and time spent with her friends. A little troubling that the tree was growing more central to her mental stability like that, but she counted her blessings as they came, even if it did give her second thoughts about her commitment to combat training. By the time she and everypony else had found a suitable schedule to work around, three weeks had passed since she’d accepted Luna’s offer. * * * * * Luna’s Night Guards had a garrison of their own, and judging by appearances, it probably hadn’t seen much use until her return from banishment. If it weren’t for the dark blue and purple banners, ponies could probably be forgiven for mistaking it as a walled-off section of some noble’s keep that had fallen into disuse because its darker stonework didn’t fit in with the rest of Canterlot’s brighter aesthetics. Twilight found it kind of fitting for Luna’s guards; they had that noble-but-still-slightly-creepy theme down pat. She gazed up at the stone arch looming over her and removed her hood, allowing the bat-pony guards on either side to get a good look at her face in the fading sunlight. One of them nodded and whistled sharply, and the massive oaken doors to the garrison slowly creaked open. She mumbled a word of thanks and trotted in. Once the doors had shut, she cast the night vision spell that Luna had taught her in advance. Celestia would be lowering the sun any minute, after which there wouldn’t be much in the way of normal lighting for most ponies to see by in the training yard. All of Luna’s guards had excellent night vision – enchanted or gifted – and could see clearly even in the darkest night, so she’d opted to follow suit instead of troubling everypony with regular lamps. “Ah, there you are!” Luna came trotting towards her from what looked like the armoury, where she’d apparently been in conversation with the quartermaster. She couldn’t remember the last time Luna had been so enthusiastic about something, except maybe Nightmare Night. Twilight just hoped she could live up to her expectations. “It has been a while. How have you been?” asked Luna. Twilight shrugged. “The usual. I’m almost normal on some days, but those get balanced out by the crazy headaches every now and then. Tuesday was pretty bad; I couldn’t even read.” “What about now? Are you cold?” Luna gestured towards Twilight’s garb with a worried frown. She shook her head. “Actually, I just didn’t want ponies to see me coming here. I’ve got enough rumours floating around in Ponyville already; I don’t need more popping up around Canterlot.” “Oh.” Luna tilted her head slightly. “Tis only a concern if you are keeping this a secret. Why have you done so?” She felt herself redden. “I feel like a colt playing soldier. I don’t know—I’d like to see if this can work out before letting everypony know. I guess it’s a little silly, but that’s how I feel about this right now. Far as everypony is concerned, I’m just here on official business.” “Hmm.” Luna’s brow furrowed. “Well, so long as I can account for your time spent here should questions arise, I suppose there is no harm in that. Now, are you ready to begin?” Twilight nodded. “Then take that cloak off. We shall have no need for it this evening, and I can guarantee the silence of the ponies who might see you here.” After taking a moment to set aside her garment, she went after Luna. “Now, most unicorns prefer magic as their first and most powerful defence. It goes twofold for you, since you are the Element of Magic. However, the horn is a weak point, and there may be instances when magic is neither an option nor a weapon that can take your enemy by surprise,” said Luna as she led Twilight to the training yard proper. “Do you expect me to make more enemies like Tirek?” asked Twilight. She found it difficult to imagine that happening again. Luna shrugged. “Your life will be long; who knows what may happen between now and its end? But that’s not our concern for today. You are already accomplished and learned in heart and mind – it is time to extend that discipline to body as well – for mastery over yourself, if not opponents who might threaten to harm you and what you hold dear.” Twilight nodded. She could get along with that. She’d already come to appreciate exercise to an extent that she might have scoffed at less than two years ago. At the very least, she hoped it would help to fill the void until she had her condition firmly under control, and maybe put her troubled dreams to rest while she was at it. Sometimes, she still had nightmares of struggling against foes seen and unseen, and most of the time they bore the face of Tirek himself. Luna brought her to a stop in front of what she assumed was a row of training dummies. Twilight scrutinised the nearest one; it consisted of a log planted firmly into the ground and had several thick, wooden rods protruding from its length at various angles. “Well then, let us begin. Strike it.” Twilight looked at her and then back to the dummy. “Which part?” “Any.” Well, okay… She turned around and shifted her balance in preparation to buck at the dummy, but hesitated when she realised that the protruding rods were a little too long for her taste. She’d probably get jabbed by one of them if she tried to hit the central log with her hind hooves. Thinking that she might’ve already failed some sort of test, she turned to Luna and found her sporting an amused smile. “Bucking as the first move tends to be slow and predictable. Try something else,” she said. Okay, here goes. She struck the central pole with one of her front hooves instead. The wood felt very hard and produced hardly any noise – almost as if she’d struck stone instead. “Good,” said Luna as she moved over to an identical training dummy. “Now, try this.” She raised a foreleg in a sweeping motion, slow and exaggerated for her benefit, and made contact with one of the protruding rods with the side of her foreleg instead of the hoof’s underside. Twilight imitated her. “Well done. Now put some force behind it.” So saying, Luna executed a much quicker version of the move and produced a solid thwack when she hit one of the rods. Twilight felt her eyes widen. That was awfully loud. If the dummies were identical in material, it probably would’ve taken a full hind-legged buck to produce the same amount of noise from such heavy wood, and Luna had done it with her foreleg! Not to mention the agony that she should be feeling from the perpendicular force to her cannon bone… Biting her lip, Twilight emulated the move on her own dummy. Luna nodded in approval. “Even in your weakened state, you are likely still stronger than most of your friends, excepting Rainbow Dash and Applejack, though I am not certain of the pink one. Try again; use more of that strength.” Twilight obeyed, but failed to extract any satisfying sound from the wood. “Harder. Strike like you mean it.” Twilight grimaced and struck with as much force as she dared, which got a muted knock out of the wood. A jolt of pain shot through her foreleg, but she managed to suppress her cry. This time, Luna had a rather uncharacteristic smirk on her face. “Harder still, if you please. It’s enchanted ironwood; you need not fear breaking it.” It's not the dummy I’m afraid of breaking, Twilight muttered in her mind, but she still obeyed. She imagined Tirek’s face on the dummy, taunting her, and struck out once more. That finally produced a loud thwack similar to Luna’s, except that it came accompanied by a cry of pain. “Ow!” “Oh, much better,” Luna exclaimed, thumping her hooves on the ground in applause. “Again!” “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Twilight accused as she rubbed her throbbing foreleg. “It is tradition,” Luna retorted with a chuckle. “My instructor took great pleasure in seeing a princess laid low in his training yard. But never mind—this should not be such a trying task for you. I seem to recall your success at pounding a rock into the ground some time back.” It took her a moment to recall exactly what she was talking about. Then as the memory of that night in the Everfree came rushing back, she said, “I was mad and riding on a magic-induced euphoria at that time. I should probably mention that my leg hurt for days after that.” “Yes, that is to be expected. Now, let us carry on; you must become acquainted with pain.” She raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Twilight; pain cannot be a stranger to you. Hoof to hoof combat will involve more than learning how to strike; it also involves learning how to endure pain and minimise injury from strikes you cannot evade or blows you must take in somepony’s stead.” “That seems a little unnecessary when I can just throw up a barrier.” She cast a sideways glance at one of the guards at the far side of the training yard and added, “And don’t we have armour for that as well?” Luna shook her head. “You should not be reliant on cumbersome equipment for self-defence. And as I’ve mentioned before, magic may not always be available to you; there may be times when you will wish to conserve your energy. Besides, you took on this challenge to hone your body, not your mind.” “Sorry. I think I’m just making excuses,” Twilight murmured. That brought back Luna’s grin. “Oh, believe me; you will wish to save those excuses for later. Come, let us partake in fun!” So saying, she stretched out a wing and slammed the leading edge into the dummy. If Twilight hadn’t seen it for herself, she would’ve sworn that the sound could only have been made by an axe or hammer. She gulped and stared at her own dummy in silence, as if she could somehow convince it to become softer that way. “You will learn that outside of a few easily avoidable attacks like bucking, striking your opponent in an unexpected manner can hurt you, too. The difference is in whether it will actually cause damage. You will wish to take the hit where there is a little more flesh to absorb the force instead of taking it directly to the bone and risking a fracture,” Luna suggested with an air of a teacher pointing out how a saw works. “With the right techniques, our wings can be almost as powerful as our legs when striking a foe’s vulnerable point.” “Noted.” Twilight took a moment to gather her courage, then struck out with a wing, putting as much force behind the blow as she could. Her eyes closed involuntarily at the last second, but to her surprise, she did not feel any pain. In fact, she’d felt nothing… She opened her eyes, and realised that her wing had stopped, trembling, just an inch away from the wood. “Well, at least you have a strong sense of self-preservation,” Luna noted with a chuckle. * * * * * Luna had been firm and without mercy. She’d made her try again and again until she actually hit the stupid dummy with her wings. And when she’d finally made contact, Luna had made her repeat it over and over until she could hit it with enough power to make the dummy shake. Never mind that her wings felt bruised and swollen after that. And then she’d made her perform similar feats with just about every other limb. Foreleg punches and blocks, hind legged sweeps and kicks, back-winged slaps… At some point she was convinced that the dummy was the one getting training in beating up an alicorn. Several hours later, Twilight had somehow managed to stumble back into her guest room. She extricated herself from her sweaty cloak, then clambered onto the bed without even bothering with a much-needed shower. Her muscles would probably give out before she could even turn on the water. The finest pillows and bed sheets provided by Canterlot’s palace staff might as well have been filled with spiky gravel as far as she was concerned. Even the most luxurious, cottony fabric stuffed with the fluffiest down could not provide enough cushioning to soothe her aching body. “Ow, ow, ouch, ow…” she muttered as she slowly, agonisingly, eased herself under the covers.